Escaping the Facade
by Remember.Innocence
Summary: Post Somalia, a father daughter fic between Ziva and Gibbs, NO PAIRINGS: The walls finally come crumbling down and the truth comes out. SOME SERIOUS CONTENT: rape, suicide, etc...


**Chapter 1: Chapter 1**

**Authors note: Hello again fanfiction world! It has been way, too long! This is my third total fanfiction, but only my first one for NCIS. I'd like to make it plainly known that this is purely a father-daughter, Gibbs and Ziva piece. I also want to put it out there that this fic does focus on the sensitive topic of rape, and has a slight mention of suicide: if that offends or upsets you, please don't read. Also, I don't own anything :( Happy reading!**

**Love, **

**Gibbs Point of View**

All I could do was watch helplessly while the man assaulted the young woman in front of me. Try as I might, I couldn't do anything to save her. I was bound by some inexplicable force, which prevented me from doing anything but watch, I couldn't even look away. _What is going on! _

The young woman's screams pierced my eardrums and she begged for the man to stop. Her screams got louder, and I struggled harder but he ripped off her clothes and began to rape her. I wanted to save her so badly, I wanted to slowly decapitate that man alive for hurting the poor girl like he was, but there was nothing I could do.

Suddenly, the man stood up after having his fill of the woman, kicked her sobbing body over towards me, and walked out of the room as I stared into the tear stained face of my daughter Kelly.

Without warning, the entire scene changed. Now I was in a slightly run-down, but still tidy, apartment. I thought I was alone in the apartment until I realized the muffled sobs were coming from another room in the unit. I had regained my ability to move, so I walked towards the sound. I opened the half closed door and stepped into another scene that tore my heart out.

Kelly was sitting on the edge of her bed and weeping with everything she had. I wondered why she was crying, but I took a moment to just look at her. She wasn't the Kelly I had left behind. The Kelly in front of me wasn't a young girl anymore but a young woman. She looked to be about 21 at most. She was beautiful; absolutely the spitting image of her mother and it took my breath away.

Coming back to the present moment, I realized that Kelly was holding a loaded handgun in her lap. It dawned on me what her intentions were immediately, but the paralysis from earlier overtook me again. I could do nothing but look on in agony as Kelly raised the gun to her temple. She raised her face for a moment and my blue eyes gazed into her brown ones. Kelly took a deep breath and moved to pull the trigger.

I woke up from the terrifying nightmare screaming out Kelly's name.

After a dream like that, I knew there would be no going back to sleep so I got up and brewed myself some coffee.

The sun began to rise, the coffee started its pick-me-up effects, and I thought about my dream in the clarity of the daytime. The whole dream was so horrific it was almost painful to remember, but one strange detail kept settling on me wrong. Kelly had blue eyes, not brown. That small detail of her appearance struck me as very off… I rested my head in my hands and allowed my mind to wander elsewhere.

_My team had changed so much over such a short period of time. Nothing was really the same anymore. Tony had me worried ever since his father came to visit. He just hadn't been acting the same and it didn't missed my notice. McGee was… well, as McGee-ish as usual, but he seemed to be growing more mature, less naive, ever since the stint in Somalia. Ugh. Somalia._

_Somalia, Somalia, Somalia. To be completely honest all the changes trace back to that one summer. The summer without Ziva, the summer that was lost, the way I look at it. _

_Ziva had been relatively the same ever since we rescued her from Somalia, and that worries me. She never talked about it. Ever. It has to be impossible to come back from a hostage situation like that, and not be affected. Something happened there, and Ziva is hiding from it. _

I jolted upright as it all became clear to me. My dream, Ziva's behavior, all of it. _How the hell could I have been so blind_! I guess I'd known it all along, I just didn't accept that possibility as truth. It doesn't take that big a stretch of the imagination to realize what probably happened. One woman. A camp of thirty men. It's not rocket science.

It sickened me to think of Ziva that way… A victim. And hot coals of anger began to flow through my veins as I pictured Saleem using Ziva like a toy, free to be played with however anyone pleased. I wanted to kill him all over again… A million times slower, a death as easy as a bullet to the brain is nothing compared to what he should have gotten.

I forced myself to stand up and get ready for work, but didn't focus on a thing I was doing. I drove to work, obeying traffic laws even less than normal. My mind was so preoccupied… I had to know.

When I reached the office I walked straight through the bull pen without acknowledging any of the "morning, Boss's" and headed for the records room. It only took me a moment of find the file I was looking for, and a moment later to confirm my worst fears.

_Rape kit: Positive_

I read a moment longer, but was forced to stop as I couldn't bear the depth of the details. Tearing, Bruising, etc… it all added up to the same.

**Ziva's Point of View**

I don't know where Gibbs went when he walked in this morning, but when he came back into the bull pen, something was very different in his eyes. The determination in them from earlier had been replaced by a wall of nothingness, he wasn't letting on what he was feeling.

"David, grab your gear. We've got another body at Quantico. McGee, Dinozzo, I want all the history between Petty Officer Beilson and our murder victim…"

We all hurried to follow our orders and grabbed everything I would need to bag and tag, but something wasn't sitting with me right. There had been no calls about a body at Quantico this morning, or last night. And we already had a history between PO Beilson and our victim layed out, so why wouldn't Gibbs want the whole team to work the crime scene.

I got into the elevator with a seemingly impatient Gibbs, and I had to work to keep my normal mask of impassiveness up. Close spaces with other people (especially men) put me on edge, not that I would ever tell anyone about that.

I looked into Gibbs's face and again, something was off, he seemed to be trying to keep calm, almost as hard as me. I know I have been distracted lately, and I don't think any of the team has picked up on it, but Gibbs's attitude right now says otherwise. I know what is coming so I reach out to flip the abused stop switch, but I feel a hand on my arm stopping me.

I glance back, confused. And all Gibbs does is shake his head. I thought for sure I was going to be scolded for my distractedness.

The elevator ride stops and we get into Gibbs's car, and begin to drive in silence. The air is tense in the car. In the quiet I lose myself in my daydreams, I close my eyes and I am in Somalia again. I can hear the daily gunfire, or the tapping of boots outside my cell. I can almost feel the hot sand or the rough hands beating me, a prelude of what to come. I open my eyes again and my heart is pounding.

As the car pulls to a stop, my stomach begins to sink even lower. We are not at Quantico, we are parked outside of Gibbs's house. I follow my boss into his home, and both of us are still silent as the scent of warm sawdust greets us. I sit down at the table while Gibbs microwaves some coffee for the both of us. Something is definitely off…

**Gibbs POV**

On the drive to my house I watch Ziva carefully, with her eyes closed she is unaware that her mask slips ever so slightly, and I realize the full magnitude of my mistake. I can't believe I have fooled myself into believing she's just fine for three months. All the while Ziva has been carrying this weight around by her neck. She has been hiding this deep pain not only from everyone at work, but also from herself.

I know what I have to do. I know it's what she needs, but I don't want to do it.

**Ziva's POV**

Gibbs finally breaks the wall of silence after a few moments of coffee sipping.

"A lot has changed."

I'm not sure what to respond with, so I nod, "yes. It has."

"You never talk about it…Somalia."

And there it is. The reason behind this whole adventure. I know how to handle these conversations. "There is nothing to talk about."

I can't look him in the eye as I say this because I know it isn't true. Another moment of tense quiet passes, and I look up into his face. His wall from earlier is gone. The pained expression in his face tells me everything. " You know… everything… don't you.?..."

This time it is Gibbs who looks away. "Yes."

I am overcome by the shame of having Gibbs know my secret. I almost cry, but I hold it in. I am determined to preserve that much of my dignity. "Then there is nothing to say," I reply tersely.

The pressure is building up inside me, begging for a release, but I can't. Gibbs already knows how weak I was in Somalia, I don't think I could bear losing it emotionally in front of him too. I look down again and focus on the simple wooden table, following it's lines with my eyes. I almost lose it when Gibbs puts his hand over mine and comfortingly rubs circles on the back of my hand. I have to maintain my composure. "Nothing happened. That – "

"NOTHING HAPPENED!" He shouts, his eyes are furious. The sudden outburst startles me, but I quickly control myself . Gibbs stands up, and begins to pace his kitchen. "I saw the files," he tacks on after a moment. His tone suggests almost embarrassment at the confession.

I maintain the same expression as before, but I am now even more humiliated. "Nothing happened… that I am not equally at fault for." I finish.

He looks at me with a deep sadness in his eyes, he is no longer angry as he sits down across from me. "Ziva," he says softly, "Ziva, you were – "

"I KNEW WHAT I WAS GETTING INTO GIBBS." I yell, as I stand up and walk to the other side of the room. "It was a suicide mission. I knew that. I knew what the consequences could be. I accepted that, and I chose my path. It was my decision… My choice…"

He stands up from the table, slowly this time and walks over to me. I almost lose control again when he puts his hands on the sides of my face and gently forces me to look him in the eyes. "He raped you Ziva."

I can't stand to hear it said out loud, I have to look away, so I close my eyes. He waits for me to meet his eyes again before he speaks, and my eyes are beginning to swim with tears threatening to fall. I look into his eyes as he finishes, "You didn't choose that."

At these softly spoken words, my mask slips and the tears that threatened begin to fall. Gibbs pulls me into his arms and allows me to cry, but I still hold it together for the most part.

We remain like that for a few minutes until Gibbs breaks the silence yet again. "What happened." He says even though he already knows.

I leave his arms and walk across the kitchen again, not trying to escape him, but the memories he is drawing to the surface. I lean against his counter and cross my arms over my stomach protectively. I shake my head, partly trying to ask him to stop asking questions, and partly trying to shake the memories from my mind. He follows me but doesn't touch me. "You can't keep hiding. Ziva."

I look into his gentle eyes and I know it is okay to tell him. After months of silence I finally tell him what happened. I distance myself and am transported in my mind back to Somalia as I speak. I leave no details out as I tell my story. Gibbs listens in silence.

As I finish, my mask finally breaks and the tears begin to fall again. The quiet tears turn to choked sobs as Gibbs pulls me into his arms the way a father would a daughter. I fold into his embrace, feeling a protection I have never felt before. I feel so much like a little girl in her daddy's arms that it shocks me. I never experienced anything like this with Eli. With his arms around me I know that I am safe, I know that what happened is not looked at as weakness, I know that it is okay to cry. At last I let go and permit myself to break. I cry tears of pain, tears of release, and tears of comfort. At last I am safe.

_The end._

**A/N: Thank you soooooo much for reading! I hope you enjoyed it! Please review because I would hate to have to sick my mutant wolves on you if you don't… Both praise and criticism is very welcome! Any opinions are very much appreciated! And again, thank you for reading!**

**Love, R.I**


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